This wasn't the first time I'd seen Crowy's Abyssal form and it wasn't the second either. Despite that, looking at him up close was different than doing it through Far Sight. For one, this time I could feel the strange, otherworldly pressure radiating from him that was as uncanny as it was familiar. The oppressive, prickling sensation on my skin felt just like when I was standing in front of a Mana Well, which made a lot of sense, now that I thought about it.

As for the guy's appearance under the roiling waves of purple aura, it was similar to the one I'd seen during the school incident, but also clearly different. I wasn't one hundred percent sure about the small details, because back then I was naturally more concerned with saving Josh and Snowy, and later there was also that whole 'icicle in the gut' thing going on, but the outlines were mostly the same.

His feet now ended in a pair of cloven black hooves, smaller than the Nergal patriarch's, and his back had a pair of black wings with a strange mixture of feathery and leathery features. Most strikingly, he sprouted three horns; two of them were long goat-like ones extending outwards from his head, while the last one was coming out of the top of his head and formed something that resembled a four-pointed crown.

I was pretty sure he didn't have that the last time I'd seen him transformed. Not only that, but unlike Belette Nergal, he had an outfit as part of his Abyssal form, which was reminiscent of his normal garments, just baggier (especially in the pants department) and with some golden tassets hanging from his shoulders and hips. I wasn't surprised about that, considering that these alternate forms were prone to subtly change over time based on the person's internal evaluation of themselves. That said, it took Snowy months of image training to make her Abyssal form look slightly more like actual clothes and less like some fetish-fuel dominatrix gear, so I didn't expect Crowy of all people to change this much.

Though again, there were both Watsonian and Doylist explanations for this. For one, he would naturally change his own internal image of himself, now that he was the Herald and everything. For the other… Let us be honest for a moment. This guy was our chief antagonist at the moment. He needed to have some gravitas, and getting his clothes exploded off his back only to fight effectively naked wasn't very dignified.

In any case, it was an unwritten rule of the shounen battle genre that one did not interrupt someone's transformation sequence, so we patiently waited for him to finish. It didn't take long, and the process concluded with the insides of his crown-horn-thing lighting up with a bright purple flame. It only flared up for a moment, then settled down into a more subdued yet still visible form that continued to bathe the top of the man's head and his horns in an eerie violet light.

Just as I was trying to figure out if it was meant to be something like a dark analogy to Angie's halo, my danger sense suddenly blared at me, and I reflexively dived to my left, and not a moment too soon. The air trembled, and so did the ground under my feet as the spot where I used to stand abruptly exploded with a flash of violent amethyst light. It wasn't localized either, but more like a wave that originated from Crowy's location, and… wait. Weren't there some Abyssals and Faun guards further behind me?

I had no time to check or even worry about such things. The dust in the air parted as Crowy lunged at me with blinding speed, his right hand raised high and holding something that resembled a whip made up of some inky dark liquid with a brightly smouldering violet core. I couldn't take a better look though, as he closed in on me in the blink of an eye, his rapid approach sending a series of shockwaves through the air and concluded by a downward strike.

My sixth sense was still on top of things though, and while it took some effort to stop myself from reflexively Phasing away, I got out of the way scot-free. The same couldn't be said about the stone floor, as it wasn't just damaged but outright gouged out in the wake of the lash, filling the area with an acrid stench. I held my breath and slipped under a second, horizontal sweep and dashed past Crowy before he could make a third.

"Where do you think you're going?!" he bellowed after me, triggering my danger sense once again.

I dove to the side, and this time I managed to catch a glimpse of his outstretched left arm and the ball of purple magic light condensing in his palm before it exploded in a wave of pure force, cracking the floor where I ran just a moment ago.

"{Scene 2-A,}" the mechanic voice in my communication array informed me, and as soon as I got onto my feet, I locked onto future-me and shifted Teeny into sword mode before launching myself towards him.

"{Sync,}" I messaged back, and this time there was no need for specific designations.

"{Sync,}" he responded.

Right away, my blade clashed with his glove. Both of them were aglow with a fancy aura that the average onlooker would've likely associated with some kind of mystical combat technique, but we were all about safety, so they were essentially magical padding. We followed that by series of well-rehearsed back-and-forth strikes, and I'm sure that from the outside it looked like one of those exchanges that in a martial arts story would have six paragraphs of vivid descriptions, only to end with something like 'it took long to explain, but it all happened in the span of a single breath'.

In reality, this was more of a quick break and we were pretty much flynning. Strike high, block high, kick low, jump, shoulder bash, sidestep, strike low, parry low, counterattack high, block high, rinse lather and repeat. In other words, advanced flynning. We continued this well-practiced routine until future-me gave me the signal and we concluded it by turning the special effects up to eleven and ending in a classic blade-lock style standoff, with future-me grabbing my hand over Teeny's grip and pulling me in.

"Now, now, Polemos. I'm flattered by your attention, but weren't you listening? I'm not the one fighting you today." He shifted his grip and pushed on me with a harsh, "Scram!"

Using the momentum he imparted on me, I made a half-spin and then kicked out towards him. It wasn't perfect, because my footing was bad due to all the debris underfoot, so he leaned into it and pretended to be sent reeling back, putting some distance between us.

"I've got you, bastard!" Crowy cried out triumphantly from above, and so I pretended to be shocked when I glanced up and found him floating in the air. His arms were constantly moving as if weaving an enormous tapestry (or spinning a giant invisible pizza, though that sounded less dignified), and he was surrounded by dozens of large, vaguely defined floating lances. Each one was as long as he was tall and made of the same weird inky material as the whip from before. Their jagged forms constantly roiled and shimmered, which, I'm not going to lie, made them rather sinister. "Feel the wrath of the Emperor's Herald!"

Okay, so as much coaching future-me did to get him to this point, he apparently still needed to work on the one-liners. More importantly thought, my sixth sense was telling me this was no joke, and as soon as I started moving, the lances cut through the air with high-pitched whistling sounds, followed by loud thumps and gut-shaking explosions as they hit the ground and sent pieces of rocks and dust flying.

Was this more of an extra-destructive variation of Snowy's fighting style, or rather a dark reflection of Deus's favourite rain-of-flaming-swords spell, the back of my mind wondered idly as the front was busy trying to dodge the incoming projectiles. There was no end to them; a new one would form next to Crowy as soon as one landed, and while avoiding them wasn't all that hard, the ground started to resemble the back of an enormous black porcupine more and more with each passing second, limiting my range of movement.

Not only that, but every time I was about to catch my breath…

"Stay still, mongrel!"

There was a kaboom as he pointed his palm at me and sent another lilac explosion where I stood a moment ago. Or more like 'where I dashed a moment ago', but let's not split hairs over the details. On the bright side, these instant-purple-fireballs, or whatever the heck they were, at least broke up the forest of giant black javelins surrounding me and gave me more space to manoeuvre, so there were some silver linings.

I would've been lying if I said I wasn't getting a bit impatient though, and it was only partially because of Crowy's commentary.

"Hah! I've got you in the palm of my hand! All you can do is dodge!"

Okay, I lied. It was mostly because of his inane commentary. But at the very least we didn't have any gawking onlookers whose whole job was to explain the obvious and go all 'oooh' and 'aaah' at every twist and turn of the battle. But then again, we did have a bunch of witnesses on the sidelines, so… do I dare to look, I pondered?

Not that I had the leeway to do so, and even if I did, I finally received the message I'd been waiting for all this time.

"{In position.}"

That made me both relieved and a little nervous. This was going to be the most crucial part of today's performance. I absolutely had to nail it, so it was only natural to feel a bit antsy. I was also of two minds about not drawing things out a little more, considering that this was supposed to be a climactic clash and everything, but seeing the collateral damage unfolding around me, maybe it was for the better.

The next step was all about timing, and I had no choice but to stall until Crowy let loose another of his violet explosions.

"Teeny!"/"{Ready!}" I yelled and messaged simultaneously as I came to a screeching halt.

"{Response: Enacting pre-designated sequence.}"

I got no reply from future-me, but I trusted that he was still in position, so I focused on my weapon's response. Crowy must've realized that I was up to something, because he stopped doing his previous interpretive dance routine and shifted to small circular motions, the same one I'd see him use to conjure his shield. His movements grew even more frantic when he saw my spearpoint glowing white-hot with accumulated mana.

I was a good sport, so I continued to 'gather energy' while I waited for him to finish casting his shield spell, and as soon as he was ready, I let out a loud grunt and thrust the spear into the air, aimed right at him. It was effectively the same as the sword-beams I practised with Josh, just in a different form. This was more akin to the torrent of energy released by Josh's signature move, just much more controlled. Less of a wave, and more of a tight beam originating from the spear-tip.

It was still a pretty spectacular move though, as it should be with these kinds of things, and the flash of its silver light momentarily overpowered all the purple stuff Crowy was throwing around. I could feel Teeny grow hotter in my hands as the stream of mana took the shape of a white beam as thick as my forearm. There were some superficial elements as well, such as a couple of circular lights surrounding the spear like a series of progressively smaller halos, and I even forced my theoretical Celestial wings into existence for a moment, just to give the moment even more gravitas and to get that 'dramatic game CG' aesthetic down pat.

More importantly, while I added a lot of extra special effects to the strike for the sake of presentation, the beam attack itself was anything but practical; fast, precise, and straightforward. Crowy had no chance to avoid it, so he made the right call by trying to block it. What I didn't expect was that his protective spell would only manage to partially deflect the attack. The silver beam drilled through multiple layers of his hexagonal shield, and only changed direction at the end, glancing to the side and hitting him right in his left wing.

Despite his Barrier being fully intact, it pierced right through at gouged a fist-sized chunk off the tip of his wing. He roared in pain and tumbled out of the air, barely managing to stop himself from falling flat on his ass by turning around and making a forceful three-point superhero landing instead. There was a long moment of silence lingering in the hall as I retained my posture and waited for the next act, which came in the form of a heavy impact on my back.

"Nothing personal, friend!" future-me exclaimed with glee as his open palm struck me right between the shoulder blades and sent me tumbling forward.

From the outside, the force of the strike must've looked an order of magnitude greater than what I felt thanks to activating a couple more special effects enchantments on his glove and my Leoformer, but even with most of the impact mitigated, it pushed the air out of my lungs. I kept a level head and followed the script by rolling forward, retrieving a red packet from my storage enchantment, and then immediately springing to my feet, my spear held out in a defensive stance.

"See? That's how you do it!" future-me yelled out to make sure everyone could hear it. "You don't even need to teleport to do it! It's all about the staging!"

"I thought you weren't going to fight me," I growled with the perfect amount of indignation, and he responded with a delighted chuckle.

"Oh, my dear Polemos… Since when do you believe every word I say?" He waited for a beat and then abruptly folded his arms. "By the way, I was pretty sure I hit something vital back there…" That was my cue, and I bit down hard on the packet filled with red food dye in the back of my mouth, followed by a forced cough and a splattering of red. "Ah, there it is! Phew! For a moment I almost thought I lost my touch!"

Future-me followed that up with another grating cackle, but it was cut short by a suitably startled 'Oops!' when Fidèle Shamash suddenly descended next to me, her scythe making a wide horizontal swipe that cut through the jagged black thorns surrounding us and almost reaching future-me.

"Lord Leonard! Are you all right?"

"I'll live,"

I did my best to sound like I was trying to put on a strong front while barely keeping it together, a complex performance that required lots of physical acting. A bit of a grimace here, a slight shake of a hand there, those kinds of things. By the look of the Shamash matriarch's face, it worked.

She looked like she had many things to say, but she inhaled sharply and pointedly glanced in the direction of Belette Nergal and the rest.

"I couldn't make them see reason. How is your condition?"

"I told you; I'll live."

My grim response caused her to reel back for a moment, but then her brows descended into a determined glare aimed at future-me and she declared, "I'll hold them back. Lord Leonard, you must escape and—"

"No, you've got it backwards," I cut her off and then theatrically wiped the fake blood off my lips. "You must retreat while I still stand." I jerked my head towards the still reeling Crowy and then my patiently waiting future self. "If I try to get out of here, they'll just follow after me. At least one of us needs to leave in one piece and inform everyone of what happened here, and you're the only one who can do it."

Honestly, this bit wasn't in the script, but it felt suitably dramatic, and seeing how future-me was nodding along, he was on the same wavelength. Or rather, already expecting this development.

"I can't leave you behind," she insisted, and seeing that Crowy was already getting back on his feet, I decided to improvise. But first…

"{I'm gonna use the trump card, then jump to Scene 4-B. Sounds good?}"

"{Perfect.}"

That was an instant answer. He knew. As a matter of fact, seeing how much he was insisting on the whole 'trump card' business, I was completely certain this was part of the 'real plan', and I was just being kept in the dark on purpose. And some people wondered why I had self-loathing issues nowadays…

Anyhow, it was now or never, so snapped at Fidèle with a frantic, "Don't argue! We don't have time for this!", and then followed it up by shifting Teeny to sword form again. Right after that, I triggered the storage enchantment again to fill my free hand with my other weapon.

"{… can't hold any more than…!}" Cal's protest came to a halt, only to become even more frantic. "{Young knight! Did you put me away while in the middle of—?!}"

"{Greetings: Welcome back, Interface:Caly. Please prepare to rapid deployment operation.}"

"{Don't call me Caly, and…!}"

"Focus!"

Before they could get into an argument, I crossed my arms in front of my chest while holding my two swords vertically. Cal was already filled to the limit with mana, so I first spread that between the two equally, then pushed my circulation to high gear. It resulted in yet another bright silver light-show, and while it made Crowy reflexively erect another shield in front of him, he wasn't my target. It wasn't future-me either, though he certainly deserved I solid hit on the chin one of these days.

No, the spot I locked onto was the broken circular rose window overhead. While whatever the Nergal patriarch did made its pieces return roughly to their original places, there were plenty of gaps. Behind them, I could see both the night sky and a thick layer of magical light. The latter was my target, but before anything, I needed to get closer.

To do that, I channelled all the leftover mana I had in my system into the physical enhancements of my lower body, and after crouching down, I let it all loose in one explosive jump. It sent a painful impact up my legs, but I had no time to care about that, as the fragmented window was approaching fast. It wasn't until one of my phantom limbs could finally touch the shimmering ward enclosing the building that I let out a suitably spirited battle cry and swung both of my blades.

If I was a shounen protagonist type, I might've even yelled something corny, like 'Cross Slash!' or 'Twin Horizon Divider!', but I left that to the hot-blooded types and just fired off my sword-beams at once. The two partially overlapped and formed a large, curved silver 'X' in the air that immediately collided with the window and the barrier behind it. At the same time, I used my phantom limbs to tear at the wards, and with a loud screech, the barrier gave way and the parts of my attack that weren't blocked by initial contact broke through, momentarily painting the night sky of the Abyss white.

It was very dramatic, but more importantly, the backlash of the strike pushed me back, and after a strangely long moment that made me feel I was floating weightlessly in the air, gravity reasserted itself and I plummeted back to the ground. I didn't have the inclination to do any fancy three-point landings, so I just did my best to mitigate as much of the impact as I could by rolling. It was still hell on my legs, but it could've been worse, and I came to a halt between future-me and the Shamash matriarch.

"What are you waiting for!?" I yelled at her in the heat of the moment and gestured at the gap in the wards. It was like a giant, jagged hole left behind on an enormous yellow glass window after someone threw an equally huge brick through it. Way more than enough for someone to slip through. "Go! Just go, and don't look back!"

Despite my urging, Fidèle Shamash remained conflicted, and it wasn't until Crowy dismissed his shield and started conjuring up even more black lances that she finally gave up and yelled, "I'll come back for you! I swear on the name of House Shamash!"

By the time she finished saying that, the Inanna patriarch was already done forming the first projectile, so she hastily wrapped herself up in her misty wings. Both her outlines and her scythe blurred, and in the blink of an eye, the woman behind me was replaced by a ball of swirling black fog. It quivered, then flew towards the hole like it was shot out of a cannon, deftly dodging Crowy's black spears and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Meanwhile…

"{Are we skipping Phase Three?}"

Once again, the response to my message was instantaneous.

"{Nah. We practised it a lot, let's just go through the motions.}"

The speed and ease of future-me's reply, even after what was a major break in the script, only cemented my earlier impression: he knew everything would happen this way, and he manipulated me by not giving me the full picture. Probably so that my response would look more natural, but it was still infuriating.

"{Phase Three then.}"

"{Okey-dokey!}"

That happy-go-lucky response alone deserved a smack in the mouth. And some people in my life still wondered why I was developing self-harming tendencies…